When the days in the Salzburg region grow shorter, morning mist hangs over the fields and the first grave candles flicker in the churchyards, All Saints’ Day is just around the corner. And with this quiet holiday comes a very special bake: the All Saints’ Day bread, which we call Allerheiligenstriezel. Today we’ll tell you about the custom of the godparents, and we’ll bake a soft, fluffy braided loaf with freshly milled spelt together.
A Striezel is a braided yeast bread, lightly sweet, with a shiny crust and pearl sugar on top. It smells of butter and lemon, and the moment you slice it, your whole kitchen feels a little cosier.
In Austria and in neighbouring Bavaria there’s a lovely old tradition: on All Saints’ Day, 1 November, godchildren receive a Striezel from their godparents. In our dialect we affectionately call the godfather Göd and the godmother Godn. For many children it’s one of the moments of the year they look forward to most. In some places the loaf is said to be bigger the younger the godchild is, getting smaller over the years. How exactly it’s done varies from family to family and village to village.
All Saints’ Day and All Souls’ Day on 2 November are days of remembrance. Many families visit the graves of their loved ones, decorate them and light candles. It’s often said that the braided shape recalls an old mourning custom in which women cut off their braids as a sign of grief. Whether that’s really true can’t be said for certain today. But we love that a day of remembrance has given us a bake that brings families together.
At home in Hallein, the Striezel is simply part of the day. After visiting the cemetery, the family gathers in the warm parlour with coffee or hot chocolate, and the loaf is cut into thick slices. Some enjoy it plain, others with butter and jam.
Spelt is wonderful for yeast baking. Freshly milled, it has a delicate, slightly nutty flavour, and the whole kernel, including germ and bran, ends up in your flour. A few things will help your loaf turn out light and fluffy:
Makes one large loaf or two small ones (perfect for two godchildren). Time: about 30 minutes of work, plus around 1.5 hours of rising and 30 to 35 minutes of baking.
Mill the spelt finely. Dissolve the yeast with a teaspoon of sugar in a little lukewarm milk. Put the flour, remaining sugar, salt and lemon zest in a bowl, add the yeast milk, the rest of the milk, the egg and the butter, and knead for 8 to 10 minutes into a soft, smooth dough. If you like, work in the raisins at the end.
Cover the bowl with a tea towel and leave the dough in a warm place for about 60 minutes, until it has visibly grown. In a cool autumn kitchen it may take a little longer.
Divide the dough into four equal pieces and roll each into a strand about 40 cm long, slightly thicker in the middle and thinner at the ends. Lay the strands side by side and press them together at the top. Now always take the outer left strand and weave it over the second, under the third and over the fourth strand, until it lies on the far right. Then start again with the new left strand. Finally, press the ends together and tuck them under the loaf.
Prefer a classic three-strand braid? That works just as well. We showed you how with our harvest festival bread with freshly milled grain.
Place the braid on a lined baking tray, cover it and let it rise for another 30 minutes or so. Meanwhile, preheat your oven to 180 °C (top and bottom heat). Brush the loaf with the egg wash, sprinkle with pearl sugar and bake on the middle shelf for 30 to 35 minutes until golden brown. If it browns too quickly, lay a sheet of baking paper over it after 20 minutes. When it sounds hollow as you tap the bottom, it’s done.
Our tip: wrapped in a tea towel, the braid stays moist for two to three days. Any leftovers are delicious toasted with butter or made into French toast.
Every year we love the moment when the freshly milled spelt trickles into the bowl and, a little later, the scent of the braid fills the house. With your Salzburg grain mill you mill your flour exactly when you need it, as fine as your yeast dough likes it. That’s how an old custom becomes a homemade family tradition.
Give it a try and bake a braid this year for your godchild, your family or just for yourself. We’d love to hear how it turned out!
